Sing of Morgana
by Darkswansong
Summary: The rest of the story has hit a definite delay, since Sirius Black's DEATH puts a bit of a kink in the works. Oh, will Celena ever catch a break?
1. The Letter

One-shot introduction to an OC of mine. She's an ex-auror of the Maurader's generation, one of Lily and the boys' best friends. She and Sirius were married (they eloped) shortly before harry was born, and she's actually his godmother. I'm planning on writting several peiecs chronicling her life, but this happens to be my first. It's set at the beginning of PoA, and serves mainly to justify Celena's self-imposed exile, and why we never hear of her in the books. As always I own nothing but Celena. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Celena Morgan tapped the folded piece of parchment against her leg as she gazed thoughtfully into the fire. She ran through the message in her mind, not needing to look at the letter, it's contents memorized. Both the words, and their motivation. It was a short note, and on the surface it seemed innnocent enough. An old headmaster, perhaps nostalgic for easier days, inquiring after the health of a former favoured student, and extending an old invitation to come back and give a guest lecture or two. But she knew Albus Dumbledore far too well to take this on appearances. He was concerned for her, tought she was in danger. the invitation to Hogwarts was an obvious attempt to get her where he could watch over her.  
  
Was she in danger?  
  
She rose from her perch on the arm of the over-stuffed chair and made her way to the window. She had heard the reports of course, it was impossible not to. She hadn't heard of any sightings near here, but then she knew all too well the falibility of the voice of popular hysteria. For the first time in a very long while, she was glad she had gotten out of the game. She didn't want to be the one to bring him in. Not again.  
  
Never again.  
  
She moved restlessly through her rooms in the tower of the old Irish keep, her thoughts scattereing in different directions. Memories were interrupted roughly as she passed through her kitchen, and her radio gave a sudden squawk.  
  
~~This is Witch's Wireless bringing you a special bulletin: Escaped convict Sirius Black has been sighted near- *click*~~  
  
She stood there with her hand on the knob for several minutes. one part of her brain screamed at the irrationality of her action.  
  
He could be coming, he could be here...  
  
Fine. Let him come.  
  
The rest of her answered. Hell, half of her wanted to see him, the same reckless half that drew her towards him in the first place. What was the worst that could happen?  
  
He could kill you.  
  
Feh. An irionic end to an irony-filled life. It's not like she had anything left anyway. She lost it all that night, everything she ever cared for. All but the boy, and he was better for not knowing her. She even lost her fight, the one thing that she could throw herself into and not feel the loss, the guilt, the damnable helplessness. With nothing left to fight, she had no purpose. Hereos are meant to die on the battlefield in a bright blaze of glory, not sufficate slowly in life.  
  
You could kill him.  
  
Always possible. She wanted to at times, hurt him the way he hurt her friends, his friends. The way he hurt her. She wouldn't got to Azkaban for it, she knew that much. Hell, they'd probably give her a damn medal. And then what? Back to this empty existance? No. She couldn't do it anyway. It wasn't the killing part, God knows she'd seen plenty of that in her day, done more of it than she'd liked, too. But she had done it. If there was one thing they always said about Celena Morgan it was that she never backed down. No, she cpuldn't do it becasue it was him, goddamnit. She wanted to hate him so badly, but she coudn't. Logic and Justice be damned, she loved him still. And that was the worst part. Knowing that she loved a man who could be corrupted into plotting the murders of two of his best fiends and their child, their infant, who could murder another friend in coldblood, and 12 other completely innocent bystanders, ruin countless lives, all the while lying to her, making her believe he loved her.  
  
God, how she wished she had told Lily yes. But no, she was an auror, too well known, too easy a target. she was so afraid that she would fail them, ans she did.  
  
It's hell you know, to lose everything, and then watch the man you love get thrown away to rot for it, when you know that you could have saved them all.  
  
It eats at your soul. 


	2. Innocent

Innocent.  
  
The word swirled round and round in her brain, her eyes searching the parchement for the hundreth time to be sure it was real, to be sure, it wasn't a fake, a foregery. It wasn't.  
  
Innocent. He was innocent. It didn't matter that the Ministry didn't decree it so, Dumbledore believed it, and that was enough for her. Sirius was innocent, and Peter, weak, pathetetic little Peter, he was the bloody one.  
  
The miserable coward. How fitting that he should be a rat, how true to his nature. They should have known, she shuld have known. A dog doesn't turn on its own pack. But the rat certainly did. How many lives did that bastard destory, and for what? For power? To save his own skin? Was that worth making his mother cry over his finger in a box? Is that the price of fourteen lives, the orphanage of a child, the misery of all their families, and 13 years of pure, unadulterated hell for the three survivors? Was he the reason there was only three? Did he have something to do with Eva?  
  
Celena shuddered and leaned against the battlements for support, the stone cold against her cheek. She fought a wave of nausea as her friend's face as she last saw it swam before her eyes, bloodied and broken. She hadn't thought of Eva in almost 13 years, since she dulled herself to the nightmares. She had never connected her torture to the traitor, how could she when they tought it was Sirius? He had been the one who had held her after she....she....NO!  
  
Celena gripped the stone railing with whiten knuckles and and took great, gulping breathes into the wind, trying to choke done the bile threatening to rise. This was all on him, that mealy-mouthed son of a bitch! How easy it is to hate him now. Much easier than when it had been Sirius. How easy it would be to blame everything on him, to feel no guilt.  
  
How much simpler it all would be.  
  
She felt the chuckled well up within her and she didn't fight it. She threw back her head and laughed into the wind, a cynical laugh, but one filled with a morbid kind of amusement never-the-less. " The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel.." the words of an old muggle philosopher popped into her head. Well, she never had been much of a weeper. Neither had Sirius, he had laughed too, when they had taken him away, she understood why now. They were much like after all, she and him. They both appreciated the bitter tang of irony, and life saw fit that they should never want for a taste.  
  
For all that, why had she not seen his innocence? Why did it take her thirteen years, and a signed document from Dumbledore himself before she would believe what was right in front of her face? What she should have known all along. Oh God, how it must have killed him to know that she and Remus thought him guilty. If believing he was guilty was like knife in her heart, then knowing he was innocent and she didn't believe in him was like twisting one in his.  
  
She had made a terrible mistake. One she was willing to spend the rest of her life making up for, if he let her. She glanced at the owl perched next to her, pretending not to be ruffled by the wind. It had been waiting paciently to return with her reply for God knows how long. A reply to a request to re-enter a world that she once belonged to, and a fight she had never had the chance to finish. She needed to do this, she decided, make her comeback, reclaim her life. And help Remy and 'Rus strew the ground with rat entrails.  
  
She felt the ghost of an old smile creep acrossed her face as she turned and made her way into her bed chamber, the owl in close pursuit. She surveyed the small , round room, and the large trunk at the foot of her bed. Shouldn't take too long to pack. The owl gave an indignant hoot and dive bombed onto her bed, landing in a puff of brown feathers, trying to get her attention. She laughed at its impacient expression.  
  
"What do you think, feathers? Think Dumbledore would be supprised if I showed up on his doorstep after 13 years?" The owl gave her a look that stated quite clearly that she obviously was not in her right mind if she expected an answer. Celena laughed again, but his time the sound was soft and genuine, for he first time a long while. "I guess there's only one way to find out. Put the wizarding world on notice, feathers, Celena Morgan, the Untouchable Auror, is back in the game." 


End file.
